


Smoke and Shadows

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Smoking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaping, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Ultra Magnus and Megatron enjoy a smoke and something a bit more intimate. Rodimus witnesses the shocking events.





	Smoke and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> For owlcatsandtea!
> 
> They asked for Magnus and Megatron vaping then doin' the clang-clang while Rodimus watches. I love I got two commissions in a row involving voyeurism!

Ultra Magnus had a tendency to shadow Rodimus, like a second... well. 

Sometimes it was great, sometimes it was okay, and sometimes it was just plain fucking annoying. Rodimus had spoken with Magnus on a number of occasions about space and privacy, but Magnus insisted everything he was doing, magnetizing himself to the (co-)captain of the ship, was purely professional. There was a hint of concern in his tone, as if he wanted to say, "also, you're like a child sometimes and I worry for the sake of everyone aboard this ship and anyone who might be within close proximity outside."

Naturally, of course, the time Rodimus actually _needed_ Ultra Magnus, his second in command wasn't there. Rodimus asked around, went to Magnus's usual haunts (the bridge, his suite... that was about it), but no one had seen hide nor hair of him. Magnus's comm signal was on stand-by, which didn't surprise Rodimus (always working, even when he recharged), and Rodimus was about to just summon him over the ship's intercom, but Whirl just so happened to appear and just so happened to mention "something something oil reservoir something."

Rodimus headed down to the reservoir quickly, annoyed but confused. Why was Magnus hanging around down there? There'd been no report of any accident or malfunction of equipment. That'd be the only reason Magnus would go someplace pretty greasy and dirty. But as Rodimus stepped out of the elevator, making his way down the short corridor to the reservoir, he stopped, olfactories alert.

That... smell. Sickly sweet, kind of like... honey? Femax lavender? Rodimus shook his head. There was a lot of it, this smell; it made him a little dizzy. Rodimus continued cautiously forward, peeking a short distance from the window on the thick steel door. What he saw actually shocked him.

It was Ultra Magnus, all right, but he wasn't alone. _Megatron_ was with him. Rodimus knew the two had been getting along recently, but it still put him a little on edge. Come to think of it, Rodimus never thought to seek out and ask Megatron where his SIC might be. The two stood awfully close together--a bit... too close to be friendly, or at least comfortable for someone like Ultra Magnus.

But it was the cygar that surprised Rodimus the most. It was a unique type of cygar, one he hadn't seen in a very long time. Cybertron once had a few smoke shops that sold them, and they were pretty common on Hedonia, but they'd become somewhat of a rare commodity since the war broke out. This had to be a special brand, too, since the smoke flavor was a custom blend. Typically these cygars all came in the same flavor, but if you wanted something different, that cost you. Pretty expensive, too, Rodimus recalled.

Magnus stood upright, puffing away on the cygar. Megatron, practically glued to his hip, leaned over the railing, looking between the Autobot and the river of oil below. Megatron was smiling, and Magnus wasn't... well, he wasn't frowning. He looked relaxed, and not just because of the cygar. The two appeared to be talking about something... pleasant? Absolutely not work related. 

Rodimus licked his lips, leaned in closer, pressing his helm to the door.

"... hear the way you..."

"Please... I'd rather... key me."

Key? No, that wasn't right. Their voices were too muffled through this door. Rodimus cursed, but he was determined. He poked his head back up, just eye level with the bottom of the window. Smoke billowed from the corners of Magnus's mouth, the cygar pinched between two fingers. He passed it to Megatron (!), who took a drag and blew a cloud of sweet smoke close to Magnus's face. That surely would have pissed the big Autobot off, but instead Magnus just... stayed calm, unfazed.

Rodimus felt his spark skip--Megatron's hand on the railing, it was moving... moving toward Magnus's hand, also on the railing. As Megatron handed the cygar back to Magnus, speaking in little clouds of smoke, the former Decepticon's hand slid over Magnus's. Rodimus waited for the inevitable lecture, but it never came. Instead, Magnus actually took his hand, and... and held it?

"Am I dead?" Rodimus whispered to himself, then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. It was unlikely the two could hear him, but he wouldn't put it past Ultra Magnus.

"Nice... should wear it more..."

"Really? Embarrassing... But I suppose if you..."

"I do. Quite a lot, in fact."

Megatron took a rather long drag on the cygar, lowered it. Their optics lidded, the two leaned in, noses brushing-- Rodimus practically squeaked. Magnus opened his mouth, Megatron blowing a smooth line of the purple-tinted smoke inside. As the smoke lingered between them still, Megatron sealed their lips in a kiss. Magnus gladly accepted, cupping Megatron's hip. The kiss deepened by the way Rodimus could see how intense their jaw actuators were working, little wisps of smoke escaping between their mouths. 

Megatron reached up, smoothing his thumb along Magnus's cheek, the cygar hanging limp between two fingers. They broke the kiss, and the mighty, frightening warlord casually slid the cygar between Magnus's lips. Maybe a little too deep, but Magnus didn't seem to mind. He wrapped those plush lips around the cygar, sucking down, inhaling sweet, sweet smoke, and there went Rodimus's spark again. His engine gave a quiet rev--no, now was not the Goddamn time.

"... cheap, you know. But worth every..." Megatron traced a finger along the cygar between Magnus's lips.

"... to repay you?"

After exhaling, Megatron took a whiff of the smoke, then leaned in again, this time just to run his tongue slowly along Magnus's lips until they eased into another kiss. But--shit! Megatron's optics flicked off to the door, and Rodimus quickly ducked down, legitimately terrified. 

Had Megatron seen him? He waited a few seconds--if Megatron saw him, surely he'd tell Magnus, and they'd both stop to catch him. Maybe to scold him for eavesdropping, maybe to explain their actions. After all, Magnus was the last person Rodimus ever expected to smoke, even the non-addictive stuff. Oh, and make out with the once-leader of the Decepticons.

This... this was too much. Rodimus clenched his chest, armor rattling. W-Way too much. But Rodimus had to know if they knew. If they were talking about how they'd approach him, because they weren't moving. Inventing deeply, he rose into a squatting position, just barely able to see through the window.

Megatron and Magnus were conversing again, both comfortably resting hips against the railing. Megatron's hand on Magnus's waist. They even chuckled--Magnus, _chuckling_ \--but whatever they were talking about didn't seem to involve Rodimus.

"... trick?"

"What?"

"Humor me."

Megatron took a drag of the cygar, puffing once, twice, three times as he did. When he finished, he blew the smoke out--not in a cloud, but rings. Individual rings, each growing in size before dissipating. Rodimus was actually impressed, and so was Magnus, in a much more subtle, casual way. Megatron blew the last ring close enough that it haloed around Magnus's face before breaking apart.

Were they going to kiss again? Why did Rodimus care? No good, no good. Rodimus had to get out of here. If he stayed any longer...

Heavy footfalls. Moving toward the door. They were too close, Rodimus couldn't make a clean break for the elevator from this distance. Not without being caught, or at least seen. He looked around hastily, spotted a nearby supply closet. Without thinking, he slammed his hand against the lock-pad (one perk about being captain--access to _everything_ ), practically dove inside once it opened, and yanked it shut, maybe a bit too loudly.

The closet was dark, lit only by his fevered blue optics. He backed away from the door, cursed when his elbow struck something. A mop fell forward, swat him upside the head. He grabbed it before it could fall over, placed it back with the other mops and buckets. It was cramped in here, and he had to be careful if he moved.

"I thank you for this thoughtful gift," Magnus said, standing outside the two doors. He looked at the cygar. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Think nothing of it," Megatron reassured. "Seeing you unwind is... rewarding enough."

Magnus snorted. "Still," he said, and Rodimus noticed he was right by the closet door now, "I feel I should repay you."

Megatron took the cygar. "If you're really that determined, and I can't change your mind..." He contemplated as he took a drag. His red optics dimmed, hooded, and the amusement in his face drained into something deadly serious and cold. "Turn around," he ordered, the cloud of smoke obscuring that chilling expression.

Magnus hesitated a moment. "I suppose," he said, obediently turning. Rodimus heard his hands brace against the door.

Megatron walked right up to Magnus, until their bodies were almost flushed together. Megatron slid a hand down between Magnus's legs, gently rapping a knuckle against his codpiece. Magnus cleared his throat. "Open," the former Decepticon commanded, smoke following his words over Magnus's shoulder.

Magnus obediently opened his plating as well. Megatron leered, not at all surprised to find Magnus was already a touch wet. He ran his fingers along the moist folds, gathering enough lubricant before pushing the edges shallowly inside. Delicately hooking beneath his hood, and even more gently, slowly massaging circles against the anterior node.

Magnus grunted, teeth grit. He leaned against the door, and Rodimus could smell the lubricant over all the saccharine smoke. Heat rushed down his backstrut, pooling into his groin.

Megatron rolled the node between his two fingers, clenching down. Magnus's knees quivered, legs shivering as more lubricant trickled down his thighs. Megatron put the cygar in Magnus's open mouth; Magnus bit down, muffling the noises; puffed and puffed and puffed, faster in succession as Megatron's pace picked up, faster, harder, unbearable. 

Magnus whined, smoke drifting between the two of them and down the hall. A little seeped beneath the slit under the door, and Rodimus gulped.

Megatron pressed his mouth to Magnus's audiol, whispering. Rodimus could hear noise, but no words. But whatever he was saying, it certainly had a reaction on Magnus. Magnus groaned, placing a hand firmly over Megatron's. Megatron smirked, inserting a third finger; the Autobot gasped. So did Rodimus.

"The scent on you is... even more intoxicating than the drug itself," Megatron cooed. "I hate to have it go, but I'm also not one for sharing..."

Rodimus's face went hot, optics so bright they were about to glitch.

"M-Megatron," Magnus vented. He undulated his hips against Megatron's fingers desperately. Megatron used his middle finger to work the node, the others easily pumping inside the channel. 

Megatron glanced at the closet door, then turned to nudge his nose against Magnus's head. Magnus turned his head as well, face to face; Megatron plucked the cygar from his lips, took him in another smoky kiss. It was sloppy, wet, but just as deep, if not deeper, from what Rodimus saw before. He could easily visualize it in his head. Their tongues rolling against one another, teeth grazing teeth, little nibbles on their lips, and the trails of smoke that almost looked like they were doing some erotic dance as they swayed free.

Rodimus scowled, optics squeezed shut; sometimes he honestly hated his vivid imagination. He thrust a palm against his codpiece, closed his legs as hard and tight as possible.

Magnus whimpered, then all but cried into Megatron's mouth. With a few more snaps of his hips, he overloaded into Megatron's hand, against the door. 

Rodimus rubbed his knees together, trying to resist the urge to take care of his own "problem."

Magnus vented hot air and little bits of smoke. He turned around, slouched against the door for support, his thighs and channel still quivering.

"Consider me repaid," Megatron smirked.

Magnus invented, standing upright. "That was only half the payment," he insisted, glowering.

Megatron's browplates quirked. "Oh?" He rolled the cygar to one corner of his shit-eating grin.

Rodimus almost screamed when something--someone--was slammed against the door. Megatron chortled, teeth grinding down on the cygar as Magnus pulled him into his lap. He took Megatron's pressurized unit, pumped it vigorously.

"Wait," Megatron murmured. He removed the cygar, blew out the smoke; Magnus watched as the former Decepticon got up on his knees, turning around. "There," he said, grinning at the door, "much better." Before Magnus could say anything, he started rubbing his aft against the Autobot's throbbing unit. Megatron's plating parted, teasing Magnus's erection with his wet folds, leaving behind thin strands of lubricant. "You didn't think you were the only one having fun, did you?"

"Damn you," Magnus said.

"Right to Hell," Rodimus grumbled.

Megatron slowly seated himself on the edge of Magnus's unit, adjusting. Magnus stiffened a moment, hands clasped around Megatron's hips. Megatron took a drag on the cygar, then sat back, almost swallowing half of the Autobot's unit. He gasped, smoke rolling off his tongue. Magnus steadied himself, guiding Megatron back up, down, into a slow rhythm. 

At first.

"Scrap," Megatron growled, bouncing in Magnus's lap. He'd taken almost the entire unit; quick enough, it surprised them both. Would have surprised Rodimus, too, if he could see them. The cygar fell from Megatron's mouth, but Magnus caught it, put it between his lips. He continued helping Megatron along, snapping his hips to meet the former Decepticon in the middle.

The sound of their bodies, the moans and grunts and whimpers... Rodimus was going to die here. He just had to accept that.

Megatron watched, dazed and blurry-eyed, as the unit filled his channel, over and over and over again. Magnus took a puff of the cygar, sat it down; he trapped the smoke in his mouth, hand reaching around to pull back Megatron's hood and fondle his node. Megatron threw his head back, turned to see himself face to face with the Autobot. Magnus opened his mouth, let a little of the smoke go before kissing his partner, lips and tongues mashing hungrily.

Rodimus chewed on his fingers, not realizing just how much he was drooling.

Megatron lurched forward with a gasp. He rose off Magnus's unit, hips in the air, overloading. Lubricant and transfluid streaked across the door; he barely registered Magnus's climax, just the warmth of fluids inside his channel.

Rodimus collapsed against the wall, venting. 

Megatron fell back into Magnus's lap, transfluid freely pooling out from his now open channel. "Well..." he croaked, clearing his vocalizer. He picked the cygar off the ground, flicked it. "If you want, I could change your gratitude into a series of small, but hefty payments." He smirked, inhaling smoke.

"No need," Magnus said, taking the cygar back.

"Maybe next time," Megatron said, blowing smoke against the door, "we might even include our third party."

Rodimus felt his spark shrink. The door slowly opened.


End file.
